


I skim over oceans

by SteveTrevorsStarship



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy, doesn't follow canon at all, same building AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 02:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveTrevorsStarship/pseuds/SteveTrevorsStarship
Summary: That one AU where all the characters live in the same building.





	I skim over oceans

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely for my own entertainment. I say that a lot now, but it's true every time. 
> 
> The title is from a line in the song Tokyo by JINCO 
> 
> "I skim over oceans  
> Got you red-eye flights  
> Ain't nowhere too far  
> Just to be where you are."

The plant taunts Steve.

It’s small. It’s green. It’s fake. It’s also the only thing in this apartment that belongs to him, and that’s saying there’s anything that actually  _ exists  _ in here. His dining room table is currently the only unpacked box he has (that was where the plant came from) and his pantry consists entirely of 99 cent packs of Ramen Noodles that he got from the Walgreen’s around the corner. 

Steve huffs.  _ Join the Air Force after college,  _ they said.  _ It’ll be fun,  _ they said. He calls bullshit. He spent months in pilot training and even then was stationed in San Francisco, where prices are sky-high and the most decent place he can find with what’s left of his scholarship money and whatever cash he got from the diner he worked at for 2 years in college is a shithole with a stain on the bathroom ceiling that Steve really tries to avoid thinking about. He saves his paycheck from the military out of the hope he’ll be able to get an honest-to-god bed someday instead of the shitty blow-up mattress his sister lent him from her post-college years. 

Other than all that bullshit, the 60th Air Mobility Wing is actually a pretty good gig (forget the whales, save the KC-10’s) and he’s met some cool people there. Etta, an Air Traffic Controller with a sassy demeanor and a short fuse when it came to sexism was quite possibly his favorite. He met her when she caught him coming back from Walgreen’s with about ten more bags of Ramen Noodles and offered to carry them. Once she saw what was in the bags-- and there wasn’t a single one that didn’t have a pack of ramen noodles in it-- she had shaken her head, said, “Oh, that won’t do,” and took him out for dinner. She became like a mom to Steve, even if she was only five years older than him. She was constantly doting on him and so sweet that Steve sometimes wonders when the hell she has the time to participate in as many Women’s Marches as she does. 

Other than the people at work, though? Steve knows no one. He only knows that the apartment above his holds some wild parties every Friday, and he can easily scream at them through the walls to “STOP FUCKING ON THE GROUND, FOR GOD’S SAKE, PLEASE!” and that usually kills the mood quickly enough. That’s the extent of his communication with his neighbors. 

Until one boring day in August when Steve has the day off and is spending it having a staring contest with a plant. It’s extremely hot out-- San Francisco sun and all that-- and the Air Conditioning Unit on his floor broke after it gave an honest attempt to battle the heat. 

In the afternoon, just as Steve begins to wish he actually went to work today, a knock sounds on his door and he pulls himself up from his blow-up mattress long enough to put a T-shirt and some shorts on. 

He opens the door and smiles, expecting to face a landlord or neighbor begging for money to fix the goddamned air conditioner. 

Instead, he finds the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life: warm brown eyes and a kind smile on her face, holding out a platter of cookies and lemonade. Her legs are long and slender, only highlighted by a pair of shorts that aren’t even that short. The baby blue color of her blouse contrasts with her dark hair beautifully and Steve knows he’s completely screwed the moment he opens his mouth to speak because his jaw can’t seem to move on its own. 

The woman only laughs at his reaction and Steve blushes, looking at the ground and scratching the back of his head. “Sorry,” he manages to squeak out. 

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh,” she manages to gulp what’s left of her oddly adorable giggles and continues, “I was bringing refreshments to everyone on our floor. I’m new here and I just… wanted to do something nice. My name is Diana.” When Steve manages to look up again, he sees the smile that was left behind in the wake of her laughter. It inspires a mirror reaction in him and he smiles back. 

“I’m Steve,” he says, as casually as he can. “You said you were going around the floor?” Diana nods and Steve isn’t sure what prompts him to say it (her beauty, her smile, her grace, her kindness, the list of perfections goes on and on) but he asks her, “Mind if I tag along? I’m sorta new here too. I mean-- I’ve lived here for a month, this is just my first day off work and I haven’t really had an opportunity to talk to anyone.” 

Diana, with her kind smile and eyes, responds, “Yes, that would be wonderful!” She winks at him smoothly and adds, “Plus, you can steal as many cookies as you’d like.” Steve smiles at her and steps outside of his apartment, shutting the door behind him. 

They start down the hall. “So, what do you do for a living?” Steve asks. 

“I’m a law student by day, martial arts instructor by night.” 

“Oooh, impressive. Think you can beat me in a fight?” 

“The real question is whether you think you could  _ survive  _ a fight against me.” Steve laughs as she knocks on the next door. 

It opens and a middle-aged man smiles at them, his gaze lingering on the plate of cookies and lemonade. “Hello!” He greets cheerfully, pulling his eyes back up to them. 

A voice somewhere in his apartment yells something in a language Steve doesn’t understand. The man responds back in English, telling her it’s just the neighbors. 

Diana is the one to speak to him first. “I’m Diana and this is Steve. We moved in recently and thought it would be nice to deliver some snacks.” Steve chokes on his air for a moment. 

“Separately,” he amends. “We moved into two different apartments.” Diana furrows her brows. 

“Why does that matter so much to you?” She asks. 

“I- It’s not- You’re too per-” Steve’s rambling is interrupted as Diana’s eyes widen and she exclaims, “A baby!” 

Steve is left blinking as the man steps aside to let Diana in, only smiling at her enthusiasm pertaining to the child the woman behind him is holding. He looks toward Steve again and Steve just shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Okay, three-second long attention span. Good to know.” 

“Come in, come in,” he says, his grin wide and clearly amused. Steve does as he’s told, walking toward Diana and taking the tray from her so she can hold the baby that the woman is handing to her. She’s obviously already befriended the woman. They're laughing and cooing at the baby. “I am Sameer and this is my daughter, Leila, and my granddaughter, Sonia,” the man, Sameer, says, smiling at the scene before him. Steve can’t help his own smile from finding its way onto his face.

Steve is convinced Diana is an angel. She holds the baby like it’s the most precious thing in the world and laughs with a smile that has a brightness to it that is comparable to the sun, exuding the sort of happiness and innocence that Steve hasn’t seen in a long, long time. He half expects a halo to pop up around her head and wings to sprout from her back, but he doesn’t let himself get too carried away with these thoughts. 

“Cookies?” Steve offers Sameer and the older man grabs a few and stuffs them into his mouth unceremoniously. Steve laughs. 

Diana and Steve talk with the family, chatting like old friends until they have to bid them goodbye and move on to the next neighbor, a Scottish man named Charlie. They befriend him as well as Sameer before meeting Napi. Their floor, Steve finds, is much nicer than he expected. That is with the exception of the grumpy old man, Ludendorff, and the man that lives next to Diana, whose real name is Patrick but is nicknamed Ares because of his tendency to start an argument over anything and everything (the first time he meets Steve and Diana, he rolls his eyes and slams the door in their faces. Steve, being Steve, shrugs and says, “More cookies for us.”) 

When they part ways that night, Diana smiles at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Steve gasps and narrows his eyes at her playfully, asking, “Oh no, what have you got planned?” 

“Someday,” she asks, “would you like to test who would win a fight between the two of us?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says, “someday.” He grins at her cheekily. 

“Goodnight, Steve,” Diana says, throwing him one last smile over her shoulder before closing the door of her apartment behind her. 

Steve shakes his head and steps into his apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

\--- 

The next morning, Diana and Steve see each other in the hall, Diana heading to school and Steve to work. They make time for each other, chatting amiably as they head off to separate cabs. 

Because Diana only has an early class on Thursday mornings, this routine becomes predictable: they wait for each other outside the hall and head downstairs together. They always take the stairs, probably out of the subconscious need to spend more time together, but Diana excuses it as her own need to get more steps into her Fitbit. Steve never argues. 

They often talk to each other outside of those walks, making excuses to see each other. Steve went to Diana’s apartment to give her his own thank-you cookies for the ones she made when they met and Diana went to his apartment to ask for sugar and ended up staying with him to teach him how to make  _ real  _ cookies (unlike those store bought ones he brought for her.) 

That’s the same night that Etta walks in, expecting to make Steve dinner. That’s their tradition on Wednesday nights, simply because he needs at least one meal a week that isn’t Ramen Noodles. Instead, she finds Steve and Diana snoring on opposite ends of his crappy old couch, their legs resting on top of each other. The plate that used to be full of cookies is empty. 

And Etta, unable to help it, squeals, “Steve Trevor, you managed to find yourself a  _ girlfriend?! _ ” Steve looks up, his blonde hair tousled and sticking up everywhere. Diana, next to him, groans and shifts to bury her face in the couch cushion, tangling her legs with Steve’s even further. 

Steve blinks, unable to comprehend the situation for a moment before realizing what happened and sitting up just enough to talk to Etta (but not enough to untangle his legs with Diana’s). 

He shushes Etta and whispers in the quietest voice possible so as not to wake Diana, “She’s not my girlfriend, Etta.” 

“By God, Steve,” Etta shakes her head, “look at you! You’re properly whipped, aren’t you?” 

“I- I am not  _ whipped. _ ” Steve’s voice reaches an octave too high and Diana groans again before poking her head up from the cushion, looking at Etta. 

“What is being whipped?” she asks, her voice husky and tired. Steve winces at the sound of it and moves to untangle his legs from hers, but her legs stay locked in their position and Steve sighs as he resigns to his fate. 

“Nothing, dear,” Etta says, snickering at Steve. He glares back at her. 

“Who are you?” Diana lets her head rest back on the cushion. 

“My name is Etta Candy. I’m an Air Traffic Controller over at Travis.” 

“Air Traffic Controller?” Diana’s eyes droop as she seemingly begins to fall back asleep.

“I tell pilots where and when to land and the like,” Etta says gently. 

Diana perks at this, becoming noticeably less sleepy. “You tell pilots like Steve what to do?” 

“Hey! Why do you sound so happy about that, Diana?” Steve whines. Diana ignores him in favor of looking at Etta like she’s her new role model. 

“Oh,” Etta says, “I like her.” She looks at them tangled up on the couch, thinks for a moment, and says, “I’ll just leave the groceries here and we can have dinner tomorrow, Steve. Have a nice evening with your girlfriend.” Her eyes are mischievous. 

“She’s not- oh for God’s sake, you’re going to tell Bell she’s my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.” Steve sighs at Etta’s answer, once more resigned. The woman winks at him and waves before she leaves Diana and Steve alone once more. 

They sit in silence for a moment before Diana asks, “She was the friend that yelled at you to stop meowing on guard, wasn’t she?” 

Steve laughs a bit as he lays his head back down on the armrest. “Yes, that’s how I met her.”

“And who is Bell?” 

“A Disney Princess,” Steve jokes. He grins as he hears Diana give an unladylike snort. “She’s my older sister, Isabelle.” A moment of silence follows his response. 

Diana breaks it by saying softly, “I still don’t understand the meowing story.” 

“Google it, Diana. Reddit will probably explain it better than I will,” Steve hums, sleep overcoming most of his good sense until he finally remembers and tells Diana, “You have school tomorrow morning.”

Diana grunts in response. 

“You should probably get some sleep in your own bed,” he suggests gently. 

“Do you want me to leave?” she asks, looking at Steve. 

“Not really."

“Then I’ll stay. We both leave at the same time anyway.”

They look at each other for a few more moments before slipping into sleep, their legs tangled and their bodies curled towards each other. 

\---

The morning that follows is one of complete and utter chaos. Steve forgot to plug in his phone and it died, along with his only source of an alarm clock. Diana’s phone was left behind in her apartment. When they finally wake, it is 6:30, half an hour before they are due at work and school. 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Steve says, tripping over himself as he runs to his room. Diana is busy scrambling out of the apartment when he shuts the door, pulling off his clothes for fresh ones and his uniform. He only bothers with Deodorant before rushing out the door. 

Outside his apartment, he quite literally runs straight into Diana. “Oh, shit, sorry,” Steve says, rubbing his nose. 

She smiles at him softly. “No harm was done,” she says. 

Steve groans. “Then you should be the sorry one. My nose hurts.” Diana laughs. 

“Come on, let’s take the elevator,” she says, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He obliges with a chuckle. As the door shuts, Diana gives him a once over and says, “Your flight suit is on backward.” 

“My- Diana, it can’t-” he looks down at his flight suit and frowns before he looks back up at her. 

“Made you look,” she snickers. 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Funny.” 

“Thank you,” she says cheekily. He chuckles at her antics and is about to make a comment when the elevator suddenly stops. Steve and Diana look at each other and simultaneously utter, “Shit.” 

\---

Years in the future, there’s a wedding. It’s filled to the brim with friends and coworkers, all smiling happily as Steve and Diana make vows to each other. There is a cake and a reception in which Sameer gives the best man speech. Charlie interrupts often to loudly yell his interpretation of the story, but when Sameer mentions the elevator incident, he remains oddly quiet.

“So there we are, Napi and Charlie and I, playing a poker game. And then Etta is suddenly in my apartment and she’s rambling on about Steve and Diana sleeping together and I am  _ confused _ because there is absolutely no way that Steve grew the balls to tell the damn woman he likes her, much less sleep with her.” 

Steve buries his face in his hands and doesn’t even try to argue while Diana throws her head back and laughs at him. Sameer grins before starting to speak again. “And then Etta drags us all out of my apartment at 9 PM and uses her spare key to get into Steve’s, and there they are, sleeping on that old couch of his. They’re on opposite ends of it and they’re fully clothed and all Etta says is ‘This needs to be fixed. Now.’ I think we all agreed. I mean really, this guy gets the most beautiful woman in the world and he’s totally into her and he has her in his apartment… and then platonically sleeps with her on the couch. Instead of, oh, I don’t know, asking her out on a date.” Sameer raises his eyebrow at Steve, whose face is the color of a ripe tomato. 

“Look,” Steve says, “I never said I wasn’t  _ shy _ .” 

Bell, sitting next to Diana rolls her eyes. “I call bullshit. I’ve seen you charm the pants off a woman without even trying, Steve. Shy isn’t exactly a quality I see in you.”

“Remind me how my  _ sister  _ knows so much about my love life?” He asks Bell. She gives no verbal response, preferring to quirk her eyebrow and sip her champagne coolly.

Sameer chuckles. “Anyway, the four of us come up with insanely stupid and yet genius idea. We know they wake up early on Thursdays and head out of the apartment together because we can hear them laughing all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge. We know they only take the elevator when the other isn’t there or they’re running late. We also know that Steve forgot to plug his phone in and Diana’s phone is in her apartment. So while we wait for them to sleep in that morning, Etta hacks into the elevator--”

“You have got to be  _ kidding  _ me,” Steve says, his face going pale. 

Sameer gives him a wide grin before continuing, “And when they both rush into the elevator, Etta stops it in its place and cuts off the 911 line. Steve and Diana- they're so stressed about it because Steve has to get to work and Diana has to get to class, but I swear you put them in an enclosed space for 20 minutes and they-” 

“Sami, there are children here!” Steve protests and everyone laughs. 

They laugh even harder when Sami says, “Well, I'm not quite sure what happened because the feed cut out after the elevator stopped. But I think we can all infer that  _ something  _ happened _. _ ”

\---

“Hey, Diana?” 

“Yes, Steve?” 

“Would you want to-- um, go out on a date with me?” 

“Not particularly... How does chardonnay and chocolate chip cookies at my place tonight sound, though?” 

“Diana. That's a date. That's the same exact thing as a date.” 

“Yes, but it scared you, didn't it?” 

“Even more than the flight suit thing. You really need some new jokes.” 

“Never.” 

Steve hopes he is with her long enough to realize that she really will never,  _ ever,  _ get some new jokes. 

Spoiler alert: he is. 


End file.
